65 Years

This is late, I meant to do this over the weekend. However I have never forgotten about the invasion of Europe. So many sacrifices made so I can sit here at type. So many that we don't know about and probably never will as many of these soldiers never talked about what they went through for decades. Some finally speaking; like Dick Winters, so that we do not forget the significance of this historical event. Thank God they have before leaving this world they protected so well.

I cannot express the gratitude for the sacrifices made during the invasion on June 6th, 1944. The horrors of war presented for all the world to see, for brave soldiers to endure. Before the invasion during training preparations for D-Day at Slapton Sands in England they were attacked by German U Boats. This story never made it out of WWII until over 40 years later. The first time I heard about it was reading Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose.

Over 600 men were killed in a horrific scene that many D-Day veterans say it was far worse than the actual invasion where about 200 were killed on Utah Beach on D-Day. One survivor vividly describing the horrific scene with the ungodly screams for help, for Mom, for anyone, coming from flaming ship and water. He has never forgotten, it haunts him every day. Never should we forget about our past. History is who we are. So many of those brave soldiers never spoke about what they went through. Many with family members finding out about their service, awards and deeds after they came home and died decades later.

Far worse than D-Day? That had to be hell on earth.

During Memorial Day I listened to my favorite talk radio - AM 1090. The Thom Hartman show had an open mic for anyone who wanted to call and remember loved ones, friends, family who served our country. One caller in particular related a very personal story.

Her dad was in WWII and recently passed away. Their relationship was not very good and they didn't talk much. He never talked about he service. Going through his things afterwards she found photo's, letters and his Bronze Star, amongst his many accolades from his WWII service. He didn't think was important enough to share with his own family, or maybe he just couldn't pass on the horrors he witnessed. He never said a word.

She tearfully mentioned his name and service - breaking down and stating that she didn't know any of what her father went through. Now she has a different view since discovering a life she didn't know he lived for a time. She was proud of her father and so extremely sorry for her part in their strained relations. Her tribute was priceless, heartwarming and real. It affected me profoundly. So much so that I am sniffling and tearing just relating this. This is the kind of stuff you rarely find in history books. About the foot soldier, not the notable leaders of the day.

Here's a letter from 1st Lt Thomas Meehan 506 PID - E Company Commander - 101st Airborne in 1944 to his "dearest" prior to the invasion of Europe. Words to live by from someone who was there and died when his plane was shot down on D-Day. It sums things up very well;



England 26 May, 1944


Dearest:

Well, I see in the papers that the Anzio Beachhead is no longer that, and that Cassino has fallen. Looks like "we ain't losin'". Looking back at the grim days of '40-'41 and '42, it seems hardly possible that we should have come so far. Those were grim years, and we in the states hardly realized it. Now the shoe is on the other foot, and the war has probably been decided in Europe. Yet, somehow I wonder about the "peace" as all the writers are describing it. I'm afraid I am a pessimist with little faith in the goodwill of mankind. Looking it over, thinking about it brings the realization that any peace will be compromise, not everlasting. I supppose the people, being as they are, have thought and tried world peace for thousands of centuries, but war, like the unwanted cat, comes back.


All we want is our way of life and all the handshaking and backslapping in the world won't change our ideas to conform with the other fellows'. The question is not, "how can we insure a permanent peace", but "how can we have peace for the maximum length of time and still be ourselves, unyieldingly?" The natural, the human, and the inevitable. And so generation after generation has its day of crawling in filth and extracting the life of some other joker that only wanted peace, but a different brand of it.


We're fortunate in being Americans. At least we don't step on the underdog. I wonder if that's because there are no "Americans" -- only a stew of immigrants; or if it's because the earth from which we exist has been so kind to us and our forefathers; or if it's because the "American" is the offspring of the logical European who hated oppression and loved freedom beyond life? Those great mountains and the tall timber; the cool deep lakes and broad rivers; the green valleys and white farmhouses; the air, the sea and wind; the plains and great cities; the smell of living -- all must be the cause of it. And yet, with all that, we can't get away from the rest. For everyone of our millions who has that treasure in his hand there's another million crying for that victory of life. And for each of us who wants to live in happiness and give happiness, there's another different sort of person wanting to take it away.


Those people always manage to have their say, and Mars is always close at hand. We know how to win wars. We must learn now to win peace. Stick our noses in the affairs of the world. Learn politics as well as killing. Make the world accept peace whether they damn well like it or not. Here is the dove, and here is the bayonet. May we never see the day again that "World Peaceways" and like organizations dull our senses and make us anything but realists. If I ever have a son, I don't want him to go through this again, but I want him powerful enough that no one will be fool enough to touch him. He and America should be strong as hell and kind as Christ. That's the only insurance until human nature becomes a tangible thing that can be adjusted and made workable.


Thomas Meehan, III


Thank you, Mr. Meehan and all of the other unnamed, unknown bravehearts who laid your lives on the line for me and my family. Words just can't express....